Living In The Past
by MeridaFaeScott
Summary: "Harry, you really must stop this." Looking over his shoulder, Harry met Hermione's disapproving eyes and didn't miss the concerned look in her expression.


** This one's for Poetontherun since she likes this pairing so much. :) I've never written this pairing before, so I hope I did it justice!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Harry watched Sirius laughing, his hands moving animatedly as he talked to Lupin. Just from across the room, anyone could tell the two were great friends. The thought gave Harry Potter a warm, safe feeling inside. Here, in this room, things were right. The world didn't matter while he was here in this room with a roomful of his closest friends and almost family.

The man's bark like a laugh made Harry utter a chuckle of his own, though he couldn't hear what the conversation was about. The room was alive with lively conversation, Harry lurked in the corner juts watching.

"Sirius, you mustn't joke about things like that!" Lupin pretending to reprimand his best friend, and anyone could tell that seeing Sirius in this good of a mood didn't have the heart to ruin it for him. Smiles were alight both Remus' and Sirius' face as they joked, reminding Harry of the friendship between himself and Ron. Perhaps this is what they would be like at that age.

After a few minutes, Harry took a few steps forward nearer the two men, a small smile on his lips unbeknownst to himself. Neither of them noticed his presence, but continued with their conversing.

"Harry, you really must stop this."

Looking over his shoulder, Harry met Hermione's disapproving eyes and didn't miss the concerned look in her expression.

"I'm not doing anything wrong." He defended himself simply, turning his eyes back to watch his godfather, who was now beaming, "It's not as if he cares I'm listening in."

"Harry…" the bushy haired girls sighed sadly. Neither Lupin nor Sirius took notice of the teenagers standing next to them with expressions now vary must opposite their own. They continued their loud conversation.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Harry turned to Hermione with a fierce expression, his mouth open to snap at her to leave him alone. The strange, rushing sensation interrupted his words, though. The next moment, Harry found himself standing in a dim bedroom, the only occupants being himself and the grim Hermione Granger behind him.

A sigh and then her soft words, "_What_ have I told you?"

Choosing to ignore her words, Harry stared longingly at the contents of the plain bowl before him. They swirled around, pearly white and neither liquid nor gas-a substance hard to describe.

Scowling, he carefully used the tip of his wand to pick up small strands of the strange substance and, one by one, placed them in a medium sized jar. Closing the lid tightly when finished and putting a spell on it that would keep the glass from ever breaking or the jar from opening for anyone but him, Harry turned to face his friend.

"I'm allowed to miss him, aren't I?" Harry demanded scathingly, suddenly looking very agitated. Reality came rushing back to him and he itched to retreat, once ore, into the comforting scenes held securely in jar he had tucked away into his trunk.

"Miss him, yes…" Hermione sighed, biting her lip before going on, "But spending so much time…It's like you're obsessed, Harry."

"So, what?" he snapped, "I should have just tossed out the contents that Sirius left behind? Ignore the Pensieve? It's the only connection I've got left with him, Hermione!"

"Well, you certainly shouldn't live half your life in someone else's thoughts!" Hermione matched his loud voice with her own, a hard look on her face, "That's not what he would have wanted-and that certainly wasn't what Mr. Weasley meant for you to do when he found it in Grimauld Place!"

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, "Where's Ron?" he asked to change the subject to lighter, useless matters.

"Downstairs with everyone else," she replied, frowning, "They sent me up to check on you. Everyone's worried about you, Harry."

His hand absently pushed his glasses up on his nose before reaching up to run over the famous scar on his forehead. Harry closed his eyes. Sometimes-as awful as it was-he wished he, too, had dead fighting at Hogwarts just a few weeks ago. Then he'd be with Sirius, Lupin, his parents…

"I've know it's all been hard for you," Hermione's hand was on his shoulder again, a kind look on her face, "But we've all suffered losses-maybe not as much as you," she rushed to assure him, "but still…The family downstairs lost a son, Harry. Lupin, Tonks-"

"I know."

"Of course you do," she whispered in a not unkind tone.

"What's that smell?"

"Sorry?" Hermione looked surprised at the sudden change of subject, and gave him a puzzled expression.

"That smell? What is it?" Harry persisted, not explaining himself further. Surely, she could smell it, too, "Like school books and parchment, and a bit like apples…" he mused.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione laughed, "Don't you recognize the smell of the strongest love potion ever?" she joked.

"No." he stated, not laughing. He didn't feel much like laughing these days. That's not what he remembered smelling last time he'd come across the potion. Why had it changed? "Why are you brewing that?" the question suddenly struck Harry.

"Oh," Hermione waved her hand breezily, glancing over at the table in the bedroom where Harry saw there wasn't just one, but several cauldrons steaming, "Fleur claims I'm so talented I should tutor her little sister some over the summer."

Hermione's cheeks were a little pink, perhaps afraid it would sound like she was boasting. Harry actually felt himself almost smile, "What else have you been putting together over there?"

"Just some other well-known potions," she crossed the room to gesture at them all, "I have put a protective charm over these, just to be sure. You never know when some may wander in and fancy a bit of fun with," she pointed at one cauldron with a bubbly, murky substance, "Polyjuice potion."

"Ah, yes…" Harry tried not to sound sad. The thought had just crossed him mind automatically. He could easily see Fred and George taking some of the potion to play a prank on someone else in the house. _Fred is dead. _The fact rang loud, clear, and painfully through his head.

Harry cleared his throat, "What else have you got there?"

"Healing potion, a version of Skele-grow," Hermione faltered when she came to the last small cauldron with it's contents bubbling slightly in an odd way, almost as if the substance rose slightly above the surface to boil-bubbles not quite skimming the surface of the liquid, "And-and Lupin's potion…"

"Oh, Hermione," Harry sighed, not very surprised at the tears in her eyes threatening to fall, "Go on then." He almost smiled as she instantly wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

He noticed instantly that her hair smelled a bit like apples. His stomach flipped. That's why the smell of the love potion had changed…

"I'll stop living in Sirius' Pensieve," Harry sighed into her hair, "It's about time I moved on, I suppose."

Hermione drew back from her face being buried in his shoulder, eyes still water but a small smile on her face, "I'm glad, Harry. Let's go down-everyone's been missing you lately."

Harry did something he never imagined doing before, but her lips were soft against his and he had to force himself to pull back, "Let's go, then." Hermione had a shocked expression on her face from being kissed, but said nothing about it.

Harry caught the tiny smile on her flushed face as they left the room, though, and couldn't help but let the corners of his own mouth turn upward slightly when her fingers wrapped around his.

**Let me know what you think by leaving me at least a little review. Please? :D**


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